The First Step
by nyxnotnicks
Summary: Things are set in motion, but at what cost?


The open room smelled like urine. The lighthouse was filled with the sound of a man's whimpers and pleas for mercy. Rosalind stood next to Robert, watching her twin check that the gun was loaded while the lighthouse keeper struggled against his bonds. The Luteces' faces were perfect, neutral masks. To the world they were as impassive as forces of nature. Their struggle was internal. Though they still shared that same mental space, linked inextricably from each other now that everything was proved to be an illusion, they could still keep parts of themselves secret. Rosalind could feel nothing of Robert's emotions. It would be unnecessary, anyway. She knew what he was thinking. They were, after all, shadowed reflections of each other.

"This is the first step, brother." She only called him brother when she was defining the hair's breadth of separation between them, anymore. The difference of more than twenty years and one chromosome, with all that entailed. It amounted to nothing, now. They were beyond the ravages of time and only their wills kept them from being one single person. Still, they were not the same and would never be the same.

Robert held a hand up to silence her. "I'm aware. You made me look at his family, following his life in twenty directions. I know him as well as I know you." He sounded nervous, his hands double then triple checking the gun to make sure it was loaded correctly.

Rosalind shook her head. She didn't like being silenced and she didn't like this nonsense at all. Of course she felt bad about what had happened to Elizabeth, but this seemed so ridiculous. With study and time perhaps they could find the one moment that undid all the damage but Robert found waiting intolerable. It was a rather limited perspective, all things considered. She wondered if perhaps he had become unhinged by their deaths and the knowledge they gained about all their other lives. "So you are resolved, then, to this course of action? We are not infallible. Mistakes can be made." She put a subtle emphasis on 'mistakes'. If they were any other pair of siblings or lovers perhaps it would have been too subtle. For them it was not. The only reason they were in this position at all was because they had made mistakes.

Robert raised the gun, closing one eye and looking down the sight. He lined it up carefully, trying to tune out the prayers and pleas of their captive, his victim. "I am." He contemplated what she'd said. They had made mistakes. The mistakes were, in fact, numerous and grave. They had time and power now. If they didn't use those resources to right their mistakes they were no better than those they despised. They had to fix their mistakes.

Rosalind took the fact that he hadn't shot yet as a good sign. She put her hand on his right shoulder, as though the weight of her hand might make him lower the gun. "This is the _first_ step, Robert. There will be others. Each step shall prove lethal for someone. Founders, zealots, Vox, warriors, innocents, perhaps Comstock, almost certainly DeWitt. You can't save a girl by killing a man." She knew Robert as well as she knew herself. Perhaps she could kill one person she really despised, or a couple people to defend herself or Robert, but she could never kill a person who was tied up and begging for mercy.

Robert shrugged her hand off his shoulder. "You won't let us take all the Elizabeths." That was his first suggestion and Rosalind had shot it down without a thought. They could populate an entire country for the girls to live in, along with suitable companions until they condensed down into one woman after their deaths. She would be like their daughter again.

Rosalind scoffed. "Indeed I will not. The Elizabeths that are captured are the ones who could tear reality apart. Stopping her must come before she is created. So must stopping Comstock." She had the argument well-practiced by now. It would be foolish to save the girl only to have her destroy reality on accident. The best bet would be to kill Booker DeWitt in his crib.

Robert grimaced. "A choice must be made. I won't kill infants." He couldn't bring himself to do that for any reason. She knew he loved children, she'd only mentioned the idea to draw an emotional reaction.

Rosalind thought for a moment. "Are there no infants in Columbia? Shall we look to see if that's accurate?" She gave him the slightest challenging look. If he loved children so much perhaps that was the angle to take. Columbia was lousy with juveniles. She would have continued to talk, but , Robert pulled the trigger and the man cried out. Rosalind tsked, shaking her head. "A miss at four meters. You're not a killer at all, Robert." Indeed, the man was shaking and terrified beyond words, but still breathing. She folded her hands across her stomach, eying Robert with a measured, neutral expression.

Robert moved closer, chambering the next round. "I am whatever I must be to to save Elizabeth and the world. DeWitt must make the choice to stop Comstock. We've studied what happens when we try to do it ourselves." His hands were shaking a little. He took deep breaths to still them, while also noting that it was curious to have such a strong emotional reaction. He'd thought himself quite incapable of it. Their death had changed much about them.

Rosalind sighed softly. She'd enjoyed killing Comstocks. They'd managed twenty before realizing it was only making things worse. "So instead you'll be content killing DeWitts for a while?" The decision had changed the shape of things, and with a moment of concentration they could both see how that shape had been altered. If Comstock was the problem and killing him wasn't the solution, then killing his progenitor was the next obvious step.

Robert pulled the trigger again. The man screamed, then began to sob uncontrollably. Rosalind shook her head and put her hand over Robert's on the gun. She nudged his left hand up to the gun as well. "Both hands. Hold it with you two inner fingers, point your forefinger down the barrel until you're steady, then pull the trigger." She positioned her fingers over his as he corrected his grip. She put her hands down and took one step backward. "Stop torturing him. Act or leave. I'll take no part in this."

This time there was nothing but silence after Robert pulled the trigger. Both twins watched as the man's head snapped backward, then fell forward. The wall behind him was painted with red and pink tissue (which would bleed to grey soon enough). Their faces were still, perfect masks. Rosalind nodded, acknowledging Robert's answer.

"You're not going to leave me, are you? I'll be dragging you along every step of the way." Robert noted, his tone soft and neutral. He debated whether that was something he wanted or not. She was pleasant company, he supposed, but he had work to do and her sudden interest in taking the moral high ground was problematic for his goals. She would let the world burn rather than be the one responsible for turning on the fire hose.

"Yes." She said with another nod. It was the only way she might hope to talk sense into him. They couldn't undo their actions. Compounding their sins in pursuit of that was ridiculous. "But if we're going to do this, I'd like to do some tests to better understand the nature of the universe."

Robert nodded, making sure he had no blood on his clothing. Things didn't seem to travel with them reliably, but it gave him something to look at beside the man he'd killed. "I don't know which of us is worse, Rosalind."

She shrugged one shoulder by a millimeter. "We are not the ones who will be judging us. I wonder how Elizabeth will see all this?" She turned her gaze to Robert, her expression the same as it always was, anymore. Robert realized he was frustrated, but hid it from her. Somehow he thought his frustration might amuse or satisfy her and he was in the mood to do neither.

Rosalind watched as Robert closed his eyes for a moment. His emotions were still inscrutable to her. Of course, her own were a mystery to her, as well. She wasn't certain they could feel emotions anymore. In the ocean of time they were an anomaly, hovering above it, unreachable by even the tallest wave. Emotions were a sign of change and the Luteces were infinite, more real and solid than cliffs of Dover. They could see the universe being born and watch it die with no time for tea between if they wanted.

Robert could feel their motions through time. They were nearly everywhere, spinning a web to keep a flood of fire at bay. He believed that they would succeed. How could they not? They understood the universe in a manner no other person ever had before. A sufficiently thick web might smother those flames.

The twins looked at the corpse they had created. Rosalind knew that they'd pulled the trigger years ago. Perhaps his death was inevitable the moment after they dreamed of the nature of the universe. She shook her head and went toward the door. "Shall we see whether Elizabeth is ready for independence or not? I have devised a test to tell, one I think you will appreciate for its symbolism."

Robert nodded, moving to Rosalind's side. They didn't touch each other very much anymore. They didn't touch anything very much anymore. He put the gun in his pocket, his mind linking with Rosalind's to figure out where she would go next.

When they disappeared the gun clattered to the floor, the only sound in the room for almost half an hour.


End file.
